When your arm got cut off while on the job at your accounting firm, they gave you the option of either accepting a huge monetary payment or adopting a baby born with three arms so that the two of you could learn from each other. You took the freak baby.
Steve is sixteen now and you've both taught each other so much. When you're allowed to wander inside your own head, you imagine how wonderful it would be to have all the arms in the world. You envision yourself juggling while shaking hands with new friends and clicking around on a remote at the same time, but then you'll go downstairs and Steve will be crying because none of the shirts he bought at the mall will fit him because they don't have three arm-holes. When you see those tears on his cheeks, you are disgusted with yourself for all your appendage fantasizing.
Steve has come to hate arms. He's often wished that he didn't have any arms at all. In his dreams he is a sleek and elegant fish swimming through the Ocean fast as a missile. And when he wakes up and tries to untangle all of his arms from the sheets, he wants nothing more than to scream curses at God for bestowing this abundance upon him. Then he'll see you at the dinner table, unable to lift your fork to your mouth without first placing your drinking glass down, and he'll remember that the grass on the other side is not always greener.
Today you and your son are going in for surgery. Your son's arm has grown enough for it to be transplanted onto your body. Tonight you'll discover that your new arm has a mind of its own (of course it does!) when you begin to masturbate with it and you realize that your arm wants to masturbate in a way you've never thought was a good idea (lots of finger dervishes along the shaft). You'll assume that this is the way your son likes to masturbate. It's hard for a Dad and his boy to communicate, and it's safe to say you never would have learned about your son's masturbation preferences had your arm not gotten cut off in the first place, leading you to adopt a three-armed son and eventually undergo transplant surgery to have one of his arms attached to your body. One door closes, another one opens.
Happy Workman's Comp Day!
